When I sat down to write the opening of this newsletter, I simply intended to write about how the long-standing relationships I have with building staff help me “get it done.” I quickly realized how much these relationships have meant to me.
My daughters and I spent the early days of the pandemic hiding out in Greenwich. A few weeks in, I committed to helping over at God’s Love We Deliver, so I headed into the city. My kids were scared, and to be honest, I was too.
The highways were eerily empty, my stomach was in knots, and my anxiety was almost crippling. I made it to Manhattan in record time, but the streets were barren. It wasn’t until I turned down Broadway that I started to cry and had to pull over. I was in shock at what I was seeing, an illuminated but completely empty Times Square. I was sickened and petrified that our “home” was gone.
A month or so later, I couldn’t wait to get back to work, but to even walk into a lobby I was required to fill out endless forms, wear an N95 mask, surgical gloves, show my paper booties, lean into the temperature taking stand, and was sprayed with sanitizer. I felt like a surgeon headed into the OR.
It was like a sci-fi movie, but what I remember most is being greeted with COVID air hugs, elbow bumps, and warm smiles. I felt a huge sense of relief that the men and women were safe and that life was slowly getting back to the new normal.
Many of the staff are older and use public transportation to get to work. As the majority of the city left or worked virtually, they were required to come to work every day to protect the residents and their property.
To feel safe, many of the door people took early retirement and my heart sank when I didn’t see their familiar faces at the door.
Jose was the concierge at the Pythian for as long as I can remember. I adored him. He was always friendly, funny, even-tempered, and so helpful. As a single working mom, I found myself with an appointment to show an apartment in Jose’s building, but my nanny had to suddenly leave. Jose offered to keep an eye on my 7 & 8-year-old daughters as they sat in the lobby with their iPads.
I never got a chance to say goodbye to him, but there is never a time I walk into the building that I don’t think of his warm smile.
NYC is stunning, beautiful, dysfunctional, maddening, magnificent, disgusting, entertaining, raw, edgy, elegant, and breathtaking. It’s not its architecture, skyline, or cultural attraction that makes it the best place to live, but the people who live and work here. They enrich my life and make me so proud to call NYC my home.